Isaiah pulled his jacket closer to himself. It really was awfully cold that night, and the wind generated by the life support systems didn’t do much to help.
“Cold, master?” I inquired, quite pointlessly, for my sensors were reading below 50 degrees.
“Pshh, no I’m cool,” Isaiah lied-or admitted, I don’t know. We continued walking through the streets of Subterrania, through the blue light that filled most of the area during that time. Combined with the intense cold, it made the city feel as though made of ice.
“You think we’ll have enough credits to win that hover-cycle at the auction?” Isaiah asked.
“Well the chances are 37.5%-”I began.
“You know what? Forget I asked.” He replied. At that moment, a piercing siren filled the air. It was something we were used to, actually; it meant that the under-tremors were coming. Yet I remember that this particular time, the shaking was more intense. And suddenly, high above, at what all the residents assumed was the roof of the under-City, a gaping hole opened.